The Mask and the Mirror
by Cloudincia Portagate
Summary: 23 years after the Battle of Hogwarts Slytherin house is still the realm of the pureblooded and the powerful. So how will Andrea, muggleborn book-a-holic, cope in her new house?
1. Chapter 1

The Mask and The Mirror

(Chapter 1): From Train to Bed

Cloudincia Portagate

***

Author's notes: I love these things, they're so useful.

This began as a second person fic. I've tried to change the grammar into third, but if I missed something, don't be cross. And she didn't come with a name, so I don't know what it is. She might sound a little odd but this is the way MY mind works, and mine is the only mind I know. Sorry. I can't be a telepath. HOWEVER, I have tried to make this not a Mary Jane or Sue, or whatever they're called, self insertion anyway. The character may think like me, but she isn't me, she's sufficiently different that if you don't know my mind, you might not recognise her as me. So she's not me. Thank you.

I know that Scorpius is probably out of character, but he doesn't ever get a character to be in, so he's essentially mine. He will be developed later. And if a paragraph ends in italics and the next one begins with them then Andrea is answering her own commentary.

This has a plot, kinda. If you want action, go read the original stories. This is a study of the mental state of a girl who's locked herself away for 11 years, and is now able to come out. It's the story of a girl who doesn't know the rules, and by the time she's learned them it's too late. It's supposed to be about character, not about wizard duels, and mischief. In fact I'm on chapter 5 right now and rather irritated by Andrea's lack of mischievousness. So don't expect it to go anywhere fast. If you want good stuff that's about the mind, read Ghormengast. If you want trash, read this.

If I get a lot of reviews saying it's the worst thing you've read since 'A Wizard of Oz,' which doesn't deserve the dignity of italics, then I'll take it down. If I continue past 1st year, which I'm currently not planning on, it shall become apparent why you are not in…the houses Andrea isn't in. (I have to maintain some suspense). However, please note that I'll only keep it up if people ask me to, only year one is planned right now. _Addendum as of later_ this still applies even though I've written all of 1st and 2nd year, and a considerable chunk of 3rd.

DISCLAIMER-I do not own _Harry Potter_, _Lord of the Rings_, _The Hobbit_, _V for Vendetta_ or the computer I'm typing this on. Thank you for not suing.

***

She'd never really been a fan of being anyone. And the best way of doing that was to be a good student, and do whatever anyone else told her. And if, in the process, she lost a little piece of herself, well, it only hurt for a while. So when, at 11, Andrea Ferntap was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry she was shocked, honoured and worried. Actually she was 10, but school started only two days after her 11th birthday. Shocked because it meant that, contrary to 'common knowledge' magical things really happened, and it wasn't just her imagination. Honoured because, well, wizards went to her school; how many times had she wished she had magic? Worried because suddenly she had to try again. Had she gone to the 'muggle' secondary school she was on track for, everyone would have known her to be a brainy nobody. Now she had to try again, to re-establish a reputation as clever, and to blend in with a disparate group of children. She'd never been good with homogenous groups, how was she supposed to cope in Scotland, when everybody was from somewhere else. But she was comfortable, too, she was better now, at telling when the voices she heard were there and when they weren't, so, maybe, in this place, she could do it, maybe, in a world of magic, she could leave behind the ridiculous notion that she was crazy.

Somehow she managed to restrain utter panic until she was on the train. She plugged her i-pod into her ears, and pulled out her favourite text; _Elementary Potion Making_. It was exactly what she loved; no boring dry facts, like in _Hogwarts: a History_, which she, of course, tried (and failed) to read; but instead this book taught useful things; facts that she could drop into a conversation to prove her higher intelligence, before she drifted into anonymity again. She didn't look up from her book until she reached the end of a particularly obtusely worded potion. Needing to rest her eyes she looked out at the barren, twilit countryside outside. She was farther from home than she'd ever been. Not in the physical sense; after all trips to France and Germany ranged further afield, but now she was away from every rule she knew, every expectation, everyone she understood.

The thought scared her, and she looked around her compartment to distract herself. She hadn't even noticed, over the noise of her music, the three other students in the carriage. She bobbed her head to them, to indicate her apologies for not saying hello, and they all looked at her. The one next to her, blonde, almost Aryan, but for his icy eyes, which were so pale as to appear grey, instead of blue, held out his hand, and muttered something. She pulled her earbud out of her right ear, and apologised, adding 'I didn't catch that;' too many people had asked why she'd apologised.

'Scorpius Malfoy, you are?'

'Oh,' she held out her hand, and offered her name, then looked expectantly at the two sitting opposite you.

'Albus Potter,' the one with black hair offered, a gentle smile rounding his young face.

'Rose Weasley,' the redhead muttered, staring at the ground, and refusing all eye contact with Scorpio. She nodded her thanks to them, and promptly flipped the page in her potions book, trying to divert their attention. Unfortunately, from the point of distracting them was concerned, the door slid open at that point.

'Anything off the trolley, dears?' a woman asked. At once Andrea's three companions, she had no better adjective for them, got up and Scorpio turned back to look at her.

'D'you not want anything?'

'Nah,' she muttered, 'I heard the first meal is something to be remembered, I'll wait.' An absolute lie; she had no idea what awaited them, but it seemed to please the boy. When they re-enter Rose sat next to her and at Andrea's questioning look said,

'Girls should stick together, don't you think?'

'Mmm' she said, noncommittally, but recognising as she did so, what she was doing; she was sinking into what Rose wants. Becoming an average nobody. Good; that's how she'd lived for the last 11 years. Andrea reminded herself that she had considered stopping, but she pushed that thought aside; she'd spent 11 years behind a mask, she couldn't be herself anymore, because, well, as they said in _V for Vendetta_, which she weren't supposed to see, but her friend's older brother has the DVD, and they had watched it anyway, "you wear a mask for so long you forget who you were beneath it". Oh, she knew the truth of that statement. At that moment Andrea felt that her mask probably covered nothing but a black hole where her personality should be.

Soon her companions were stuffed, and turned to trying to engage her in conversation, much to her disgruntlement. She did really want to try their food, but, well, she had said that she knew what was in store, and that she'd wait, so she couldn't. Needless to say with Rose still sitting, accidentally, on her i-pod earphone she was drawn into their conversation before she realised it. She gave up on her potions book, and on music, stuffing both book and i-pod into her rucksack. Then Scorpius, as she, after several attempts, remembered his name to be, offered her a chocolate frog. She took it, and felt it wiggle inside its packet. She stiffened and threw it away from her, not caring where it ended up, or what the poor creature inside felt at being thrown. Everyone laughed, and she bit her tongue. 'You're a mudblood, aren't you?' Scorpius asks. She looked at him, her nose crinkled in incomprehension; however Rose and Albus acted positively vitriolic about it.

'Don't you dare call someone that'

'How could you use such a vile name?'

'Don't you know what it means?'

'Where did you learn such language?'

'What's it mean?' Curiosity got the better of staying low; it was beginning to look like Wizards spoke an entirely different language than normal humans…'muggles'.

'It's the worst thing possible' Albus informed Andrea, on no uncertain terms.

'Sorry,' Scorpius muttered, 'my dad's friends use it, and I never thought about what it means,' he defended himself against the other two.

'I don't mind,' Andrea insisted, another lie; she did care that she'd just been insulted, but there were worse names, and she had no plans to be remembered by any of these people. 'I don't know what it means, other than that I have mud in my veins, so I don't care.' She was prattling, and shut up with a last, mumbled apology.

'My mother's muggle-born, so I care,' Rose informed Scorpius, 'so don't think of using it in front of me.'

'Sorry,' Scorpius insisted, 'I never thought about it.'

'Start,' Albus ordered. Andrea shook her head, and turned away from them. Her eyes pointed out of the window, but she didn't see the countryside. She saw her friends, the ones she'd spent the last few years with, the ones who'd probably shaped her the most, at least recently, on account of being with her all the time. She'd promised Chiara that she'd write, although she had been hazy on the details of exactly where she was going, and Molly wouldn't let her leave without making sure she had all her contact details, including the more outdated ones, like postal addresses, because 'you never know what arcane things they'll have you get used to'. Andrea smiled as she remembered pointing out that snail mail is archa_ic_ not arca_ne_. Molly had only punched her on the shoulder for that, gently, of course. _But a school will have internet and such, how else to they expect us to do research; from books?_

'Andrea,' Albus called her name, 'you should probably change soon, we'll be at the school in half an hour, and my Dad say's there's always a rush in the last ten minutes.' She wondered what he was talking about and then noticed that they were all in the black robes that Rose was in initially. She had hoped they were only for certain occasions. Apparently not. She thanked Albus, and headed to the end of the train with her robes in hand, managing to only trip over her hem twice on the way back; mercifully no-one was looking. When she got back Scorpius yelped and guiltily put his hands behind his back, before grinning sheepishly and pulling out her i-pod. He handed it back, and asked, innocently, 'what is this?'

She stared at him. _Who doesn't know what an i-pod is? Even if you can't afford one you should know what one is._ Her look of befuddlement forced her to feel her way across Rose's shoulders to take her seat, staring all the time at Scorpius.

'It's an i-pod,' she told him, still not unsure whether or not he was joking. All three of them looked at her for further enlightenment. _Maybe Molly was right to give me _all_ her details. _Andrea launched into a technical explanation of the i-pod, as a 'portable, personal music player'. This gets more and more complicated, until Andrea, well read as she was, started to feel out of her depth. She was rather relieved when the train began to pass station lights and stopped. Her explanation was forgotten as all of them looked out of the window in awe. Actually there wasn't much to be awed at, just a new town somewhere in Scotland. She'd never been in the country, _but it's not that different, surely. It's still Britain, after all_.

They piled out onto the station with the other first years and Rose grabbed her hand. She pulled Andrea over to one side, and whispered in her ear 'I heard we take a trip across the lake; do you want to try to throw the boys in?' The bustle and noise of the station unnerved her, and she hugged her rucksack, and tried not to get in anyone's way.

'Mmm' Andrea replied, more confused than attempting to fit in, but hoping that the non-committal response would keep her happy. It did.

'Wicked!' she yelps, and pulled Andrea towards a woman calling out 'First years, follow me.'

They did as instructed, and broke away from the larger student body, into the night. Professor Grubby-Plank, as Andrea caught her name to be, led the first years to the boats at the edge of a black lake, by the side of a rather ominous swath of heavily forested land. 'Four to a boat,' she instructed, and Rose sniffled her nose as the boys joined the two girls. 'Climb in, and push off.'

It seemed to Andrea that she was the only one in her boat with any idea how to act on the water, seeing as how she used to sail on the reservoir, at her father's insistence that it was a pleasurable way to spend an afternoon. She made him happy enough in complying. If she didn't exert herself then no one would remember that she was mad.

Scorpius looked a little sick at the thought of crossing water, but Andrea patted him on the knee and assured him that he'd be fine. Albus seemed up for the adventure, but Rose admitted afterwards that she didn't think she would have been up to knocking them in. Andrea shrugged, noncommittal again, and hoped that Rose would soon forget. It's not that she didn't want friends; it's that she wanted to be known as 'that girl who always studies.' It was a rather revered position, she'd discovered, and people asked for help, but nothing more. _No one here knows I hear voices, and they don't need to. I can control myself now, I'll know when there's no one there, hopefully_. Professor Grubby-Plank led the first years up a hill to the main building, where they were met by a tiny man, who looked about half the size and well over four times the age of the fifty-odd students. He introduced himself as Professor Flitwick, and led them into a room. Through a nearby doorway they heard the voice of a school; a jumble of voices all speaking at once. In the ante-chamber though, it was quiet. Andrea looked at Scorpius, Albus and Rose for help, and they said, unhelpfully 'the sorting,' in various volumes. Before she could question them further Professor Flitwick came along to sort them all into a queue of students by surname. Andrea looked for her…_they're not my friends_. Rose was near the back, Scorpius and Albus, although separated, were in the clump of students she assumed represented L-M-N-O-P in the middle of the alphabet. People, she reminded herself, didn't want her to hang out with them; _didn't they make that perfectly clear in year 2? Yes, they did. These three all come from wizarding families, they'll be much better than you, and they don't want, and certainly don't need, you as a friend. Always tagging along, asking questions to make up for your stupidity. _

_A stupidity I__ didn't want. _

Andrea watched the mess get sorted, and all too soon they were on the move again. Into the hall they heard earlier. Good; it was easier to loose herself. She had to wear more masks the fewer people she was with; in a large group she just wore the plainest one possible. The students, Andrea noticed were separated into four tables, presumably four houses, and four coloured banners hung on the wall above the teachers table, at the head of the room, on a raised section of floor. Andrea had mixed feelings about the practical upshot of raising the floor like that; did it give the teachers control, or does it put them on a stage, to be laughed at?

A new voice sang a song, not a very professional one, but recognisably a song. There was thunderous applause from the audience, but Andrea failed to see why anyone would bother to take the point of view of a hat in a song. Flitwick began to read off names, and people went up, one by one to be 'sorted'. She heard the new voice calling out one of four words before each name, and assumed these to be the houses of the last person to be called. Griff-in-door and Hufful-puff didn't sound like real words, and she automatically decided to try to get out of them. Raven Claw sounded like an association of assassins, but she was sure that Chiara could write a book about it if she said she was in that house. And Slither In sounded like a bunch of dubious dropouts who dealt drugs on street corners. _It looks like the only one that will do anything for anyone is Raven Claw. You'll just have to wait and see_.

The people ahead of Andrea began to look nervous as their names approached, but she still couldn't really see what was going on; all those around her had the fortune to be considerably taller. Then the boy two in front left, and, as they shuffled forwards, she noticed that he was sitting under a pointy hat, like all the teachers were wearing, and which Andrea had "forgotten" out of embarrassment. Flitwick stood at the side with a long roll of…_is that really parchment? And a quill? Have you stepped back into the Dark Ages or what?_ Andrea felt the urge to check her rucksack, to make sure she still had her i-pod, but she had left it with the others' in the little ante-chamber. Hyperventilating slightly the girl ahead of Andrea went up, and she watched with interest. The girl put on the hat, and sat on a stool. Suddenly her hands gripped the wooden seat tightly, and, a moment later, she relaxed. A rip opened in the brim of the hat, and it shouted, 'HUFFLEPUFF'. _Well that explains why anyone would impersonate a hat_.

'Ferntap, Andrea,' Flitwick called and she went up. She sat down and dropped the hat over her head, pulling her feet up onto the bottom rung of the stool. 'Hmmm, muggle-born, eh? Well, you've coped admirably with a strange situation, that could be enough for Gryffindor, but then there's your devotion to the books, a certain placement in Ravenclaw, and then your desire for anonymity, Hufflepuff might suit you, but…wait. What's this? A desire to manipulate?' There was no need for Andrea to wonder why there's a new voice in her head, she'd had a lot of voices in her head, and at least this one wasn't a sign to wear another mask. She did wonder why it sounded like the hat, but as the wretched thing had just given her quite a shock she dismissed even this query. 'Hiding behind the scenes, and always waiting for people to come to you. Always being above them, using your knowledge for power.' OK, this she'd never felt before; she'd never had anyone hint that she might be a manipulative little bi…except once, but he was being mean. _Besides, it's not like I meant to control them, I just didn't think they'd actually listen to me._ 'Slytherin will definitely help you, then. You'll be able to decide if you want power. Listen though, if you want it, and take it as expected, you will be in the spotlight, but you will be normal. If you don't want it, and take it to be normal, you will be miserable. If you don't want it, and don't take it, you will be the most extraordinary of all, and the least seen.' _Huh? Well, it's a voice in_ your_ head, you'll figure out what it wants later_. 'Shall we tell them your placement, then, in SLYTHERIN.' She heard the hat above her scream the last word, and wondered if it really was the hat speaking. _But that's impossible._

The table to the left is cheering, and she went over to them, assuming them to be Slytherin. _When did you learn how to spell it as one word? And with a 'y'?_ She bit her tongue, and watched the rest of the sorting, feeling a little sad when Rose and Albus went to Gryffindor, but cheering up when Scorpius sat next to her; at least that was one fewer name to remember. She couldn't help but feel in the wrong place. The hat…the voice that sounded like the hat, just latched on to the wrong memory, that was all. She leant over to ask Scorpius about it, but a teacher stood up. Her voice was sharp and clipped, her grey hair pulled back sternly, and her body, although resting slightly on a cane, still powerful.

'Welcome all, to another year at Hogwarts, or to your first year at Hogwarts. You are part of a story far greater than you know; a story stretching back to the founders, and stretching forward until Hogwarts suffers a blow which closes it forever, something which has not happened for over a millennium, and is not likely to happen in the immediate future. I trust you all to feel the responsibility this places on your shoulders, and to act in a manner that befits members of this school. Further announcements shall be made following dinner, and a lack of attention is no grounds for rule breaking. Enjoy the feast.'

'Scary' Andrea muttered to Scorpius.

'Professor McGonagall, head of school, and Transfiguration mistress.' He whispered back,

'She looks like she eats first years for breakfast.' He laughed, and she ducked her head.

'So, a Malfoy?' a boy opposite the pair asks, and soon Scorpius was drawn into a conversation regarding wizarding family ties. Andrea tried to follow, but got lost in the Weasley family while wondering how Rose was connected to them. Instead she turned her attention to the food, and the boy seated beside her. He was going on about something called Quiddich, and she heard enough, soon enough, to realise that it's a sport before he dragged her into the conversation.

'Who's your favourite team?' he asked as a preliminary,

Andrea was forced to admit she'd never really followed sports, and made up a story about her dad refusing to watch the world cup because it was biased. This was not entirely untrue, as he did one year boycott it, but that was only once. Seeing his disappointment she casually dropped in that she'd always wanted to learn how to be a Chaser, one of the words she'd picked up that she knew was a position, not a ball. He and the boy next to him, obviously not first years, launched into an explanation; fully expecting her to understand the rules of flying already. She followed as much as she could, and made polite noises of interest at what she didn't. Finally dinner ended, and she rested, stuffed to the brim with treacle tart, a new favourite.

Professor McGonagall stood again and addressed the school. She reminded (or informed) all of them of the rules, which were remarkably like the ones at Andrea's old school, with the exception of 'no magic in the corridors' and things of that nature. Then Professor Flitwick stood, and proclaimed that they were now about to sing the school song. Andrea glanced helplessly at Scorpius, who caught her look, and shrugged. 'Everyone choose their favourite tune, and let's all sing' a ribbon flew out of the end of his wand, and twisted into words. Andrea read them, trying not to laugh as she did so.

_Hogwarts__, Hogwarts, Hoggy, warty Hogwarts_

_Teach us something, please. _

_Whether we be old and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees, _

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

_For now their bare, and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff. _

_So teach us things worth knowing_

_Bring back what we've forgot_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest_

_And learn until our brains all rot_.

Once everyone had finished, someone at the Gryffindor table having picked a remarkably slow tune for such a happy event, McGonagall stood, and sent them all off to bed. Andrea was halfway, or partway, to her dormitory when she remembered her rucksack, and hastily tried to turn around and get it. Scorpius grabbed her arm, and pulled her forward. 'It's OK, it's a dungeon, but it's not scary, apparently'

'No, I forgot my rucksack' she clarified.

'Oh, it's OK, they'll have brought it down for you, and if they didn't we can always ask Slughorn about it later.' He spoke like the boys did at dinner, and she realised that most people around her had no idea what it was to be raised in a 'muggle' home.

'Who's Slughorn?' she asked him, quietly, so as not to have anyone else insult her.

'He's the head of Slytherin, has been ever since Snape died in the last war. Snape was headmaster, too.' Scorpius looked around, and then said, 'they say he collects students in this thing called the Slug Club. It's supposed to be for the well connected, and the really smart.' Then he seemed to remember that they were 11 years old and opposite genders, and he quickly stepped away and walked in front of her.

'First years this way,' called a voice, and the two looked to see one of Slytherin's two prefects with her hand in the air. When she had their attention she looked at them very sternly and said, 'now, the password for the week is _Honestas_* if you forget it, you'll have to do your best. Please take a moment to notice where we are; this is the only place you can enter the dormitory, is that clear. No matter how many nooks or crannies you may find, this is the only place. We shall enter, and I shall show you to your rooms; you're all in two rooms, no questions, boys and girls will, of course, be separated. Girls may enter the boys dormitories, but keep in mind,' at this point she was talking tour-guide style, and walking backwards down a short flight of stairs into a common room with a fire, and several couches, all decked out rather Christmassy in shades of Green and Silver. '…that visiting is not permitted between the hours of 10pm and 6 am, curfew is enforced, and all students must be in the common room or dormitories by 10 and in bed by 11. You may go whenever you wish after 5 am. If you're up at 5 am, then you shouldn't tell me, because I will think you're mentally unstable. This is the common room; boys' dormitories are on my left, girls' on my right. Your timetables are identical, and you may pick up copies on that table. Remember to unpack all your belongings tonight, and to store them in a safe place, because tomorrow you do begin classes. Enjoy your evening.'

She's been trying too hard, Andrea realised. She, like Andrea, was probably a prefect in her primary school, and it has been her goal, since then, to become one again. But, unlike Andrea, she tried for prefect-hood, whereas Andrea just got it. Andrea was given it, _because of your ability to control the other students_.

_B__ecause of your ability to teach the other students, and help them_. She went into a dormitory, following a girl a good head taller than her, but proportionally wider, too, and was rather surprised when she is not in the room. Andrea could only reason that she and the girl are to be in different rooms. Instead she found herself in a room with a tall thin blonde girl whom she would have put on the net-ball team, had they not played Quiddich here, which she still didn't understand. She was sorting through her belongings and crying slightly, every now and then. Just a tear, or a sniffle, but it was enough.

Andrea put a hand on her back and smiled when she looked up, 'you can always write, you know,' Andrea reassured her.

'I've known all my life I was coming to Hogwarts, and I never wanted to,' she said, 'and now I'm here it's just a cold ugly mess, and I hate it.'

'Maybe it'll be better in the light,' Andrea offered, not entirely sure what the girl wanted. It turned out not to be the right thing.

'The only thing I want to do with this place in the light, or dark, is leave!' she shouted, suddenly furious, 'and if you want to stay, then you can stay out of my way!'

Andrea backed off; hands raised in calm surrender, and turned back to her own unpacking. She groaned when she realised she'd forgotten her pyjamas. _Maybe you should have let your mum double check everything_. But she didn't want to be without her precious. Yes! _The Lord of the Rings_; her favourite book ever since her father bought her _The Hobbit_ on cassette. Ah cassette! How the times had moved on, even Andrea's father barely remembered cassettes. _But he's an accountant, he has to save money and buy antiquated things at lower costs. But at least you have your book_. Andrea frowned when she finished unpacking and turned to her nightstand only to find it too small for everything. She opened the small cupboard under the shelf, and stowed all her toiletries and spare underwear in there, and then placed her i-pod, and _Lord of the Rings_ on the second shelf, topping it off with a journal, her quill and ink, bought at Patty, her Muggle liaison officer's insistence, three biros, and a notebook. She selected her least favourite T-shirt and shorts to serve as pyjamas until she could find better ones, and looked for a place to hang her clothes. One wasn't immediately available, but, being the tactician and grand-daughter of an engineer that she was, she always carried a piece of string; and with string anything is possible. _Almost. You can't pick a lock_. Regardless, she pulled the string out of her pocket and began to test the sturdiness of her four-poster.

It turned out that her impromptu wardrobe was a better idea than she thought; it blocked the tall girl, whose name was Georgina, and impressed all the other girls; Lynn, Carlotta, Sarah and May, leading them to believe that she must be really smart. She wasn't sure what was so smart about hanging clothes on a piece of string tied around a four-poster, but decided it was nice of them to think so.

She began to get to know the girls, except Georgina, who remained behind the closed curtains of her bed. As she suspected, all of them came from wizarding families, though not all 'pure-bloods'. Carlotta was from a European pure-blood family, until her mother married the grandson of a muggle born, and had to move to England to get away from her relatives. Andrea was beginning to see a certain pattern; all the girls had a strange amount of pride in being from magical families. She felt uncomfortable when the conversation turned to her, but she did her best to give them what they want. 'My mum raised me, and she's a witch, she works in town in a muggle job though, she doesn't want to commute to London with only her and me. My dad was a wizard, but,' her story started to unravel as she remembered she told the boys that her father's views on the world cup were he reason she didn't know Quiddich. _They won't talk to each other,_ she realised, and pressed on, masking her pause in the story, 'sorry, he died when I was young, He…my mum says he always used to want to work in international relations. Maybe he could have helped you out, Carlotta.' She looked at her and brought a sad smile to her face. It came surprisingly easily.

'But you were raised a witch?'

'As much as possible; there were a lot of muggle kids around, though, so I got two raisings.' _Not exactly a lie; the boys used to call you a witch, and you have a different face for everyone, that counts as two childhoods, doesn't it_? They looked at her suspiciously, and she rolled over on her bed, onto her still-full stomach. 'I'm going to read in the common room,' she announced, and, once more picking up her potions book, headed out the door. In the common room Scorpius sat alone by the fire on the stone floor of the dungeon. The older boys had all claimed the chairs further back, but he refused to talk to them. As the fire provided both heat and light Andrea headed over there, too. _It's not because you want him to be your friend_, she reminded herself_, it's just that he has what you need_. She lay down next to him, and opened her book to where she had shut it in frustration on the train. Then she remembered her question.

'Scorpius?' he grunted into his knees, which were bent up near his face, and she continued, 'does the hat, the one that sorts the students into houses; does it talk?'

He looked at her, and stood, glancing at his watch, 'don't talk like that here,' his voice was low, and fast, 'I'll tell you tomorrow,' and with that he disappeared. Andrea turned back to her potions book, running down her memorised list of the properties of Nettle from Herbology to figure out what it was used for this time.

It was the prefect who woke her from the ridiculously comfortable place on the stones and sent her to bed, yawning prodigiously. Andrea barely listened to her as she cracked a joke about in bed and not asleep is not substitutable for asleep and not in bed. Her wand was still lying on her bed, whence she forgot to move it this afternoon…evening. She cursed it under her breath for being in the way, and placed it on her nightstand. She let out another almighty yawn and rubbed over her teeth with a finger and water until they squeaked; she didn't want to be pegged as a rule breaker for being out of bed after curfew. That done, she patted _Lord of the Rings_ in a comforting manner, telling it silently that it would settle down soon enough, and climbed into bed. Surprisingly the bed was warm, and Andrea found herself asleep before she could even muse on the day.

***

Bleugh! It's over.

*_Honestas_ means honour in Latin, but it's a kind of rich, snobby honour, not a robust, manly honour, which is why I chose it.


	2. Chapter 2

The Mask and the Mirror

Chapter 2: Foe and Friend

Author's Notes:

I know Scorpius starts getting more and more 'OoC' from this point on, for those of you who are impatient: he has been raised by his mother and father almost completely isolated from other people his own age, unless it is to be with the children of other Death Eaters, who are all older than he, and not very nice. Add to that Malfoy's reform at the end-ish of book 7, meaning that Death Eaters no longer see him as one of their own, and you have a recipe for a boy so desperate for friends that he'd make friends with a mudblood if she paid attention to him. He too, is trying to act at times; he just hasn't had 11 years experience. For those of you who are patient, this will be explained within. Though not necessarily within this chapter (Chapter 5).

I'm making chapters as long as I can, but I have to keep up with myself when I'm writing, so I can't do everything. I'll certainly try to make them longer than 6 pages, but they probably will have to be capped at 10. Sorry all.

Apologies for the comment about 'Wizard of Oz', but please, read the books, there's about 20 of them and they are the worst literature I have ever read (this is my opinion, which I reserve the right to keep)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter._

***

Andrea looked at her schedule as soon as she picked it up the next morning at 6.00, when Scorpius sent one of the boys into the girl's side to look for her. Alarms were set off, and the girls all had a good laugh, before they went back to bed. Andrea picked up her schedule, and carried it back to her nightstand, matching up each book with its class, and lining them up in order. She had seen Scorpius in the common room, beckoning her but she intended to make him wait. When she was satisfied that all was where it should be she picked up her Transfiguration book, one she frequently got lost in, the theory was so complex, and headed back out, having dressed in the Hogwarts black robes. She noticed that her tie had changed from black to green and silver, to mark her house. She glared at it, wondering if anything was going to be normal again, and then decided not to strain her eyes. She picked up her wand, and, not sure how to carry it, sandwiched it between the spine of her book and her hand.

Scorpius was impatient when she came out, but she knew he was glad that she was decent enough for the two of them to leave the common room. They headed up the same passages as they had come down, and appeared in the dining hall. Scorpius pulled her on, into the entrance hall, and outside into the grounds. He didn't let go until they were well out of the way of the building. 'Scorpius, what is going on?' she asked, meaning more the insistence of his tug than anything magical.

Luckily he caught her drift, 'we can't talk like that there.' Unfortunately, he might have caught her meaning, but Andrea didn't catch his. She admitted as much and he looked at her as if she were dense, 'You can't be a mu- muggle-born in Slytherin. We've had purebloods and second generation wizarding folk since the founding of Hogwarts.'Andrea nodded, he suspicions of the night before being confirmed by his words. And it explained the hostility they'd had to her being "raised a muggle". 'I…I think you're a good enough person, and it's not your fault you're a mu- muggle-born' she realised he was correcting himself, not stuttering, and silently thanked him; even though she didn't understand the insult, knowing it was an insult was enough. 'I'll help you; I'll tell you what you need to know, but…you can't be too careful around them. Besides, my family's the oldest wizarding line in the country, if I'm with you, no-one will question it.' He looked at her then, with a mix of friendship, determination, and something else she couldn't quite place. 'Maybe…I'd like to be friends' he said, and stuck out his hand. 'I want to get to know you, instead of seeing you pretend all the time.' Andrea took his hand, warily, and shook it, _believe me, Scorpius Malfoy, I'd like to know me, too_.

They discussed the finer points of Andrea's muggle-born behavior, 'the i-pod has to go for a start,' and Scorpius answered some questions she had so far about Hogwarts. Not the least of which was that yes, the Sorting Hat really does talk in people's minds. This last made her descend into thought, and Scorpius decided that it was high time the two of them had breakfast. Andrea, busy thinking, didn't really notice. _If the Sorting Hat spoke to you, then that must mean that some part of you wants to control others. It means that Kevin was right when he called you 'a manipulative little bitch who can't stand to be in or out of the spotlight'. It means that a very large part of you has been hiding beneath masks of subservience for a long time._

Then they were swept up in breakfast, and the wonder of appearing food. Scorpius nudged her with his elbow when she stared, and she quickly reverted to the 'I am a witch from two long, but not pureblood, lines' story that the two of them had concocted that morning before her Q and A session. She ladled porridge into a bowl, and poured milk and brown sugar all over it, before stuffing her face, delicately, for she had noticed that all of the witches and wizards at here table were wealthy, and probably wouldn't appreciate her normal breakfast behavior. A strange shouting began above them and she gaped at the masses of owls streaming in through the open windows. Owls which, as she watched one come down on the Slytherin table, carry post. 'Owls?' Andrea mouthed to Scorpius, who had returned to his bacon and sausages, but he didn't notice. Mentally she added that to the list of things to ask him tomorrow morning, if he woke up.

Andrea left before breakfast was over, finding her way down the passages to the Slytherin common room, and into her dormitory. She grabbed her toiletries and headed to the bathroom she spotted the previous evening, which turned out to be a shower room as well, and considered indulging. But no, she didn't want to be late, and she could get away with not showering until the evening. She tried not to think about how long it had been since she last cleaned herself properly…two, three days? Oops. Instead she scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth, before hurrying out of the room.

She grabbed the notebook that she had pinned between her Transfiguration text and her Charms text. It looked a lot happier for being able to breathe without the transfiguration book next to it. She told it to thank its lucky stars it wasn't still in her rucksack. Andrea loved her new schedule, with a 10 minute break between classes she reckoned she should be able to get down to the dungeons and back in time for classes, thereby offsetting the need for any kind of bag. While she was there, she hid the i-pod in her rucksack under the bed, and then headed out. Transfiguration was with McGonagall, and she did not want to be late. She realised after she made it to the classroom door that she overestimated herself; there was no way she could remember how to get from there to the dungeon in time to get to her next class. But there was nothing she could do with only five minutes until class started. She waited outside the door for McGonagall, and shrugged as the headmistress expressed surprise. 'Come in then,' she said, and Andrea entered, sliding into a desk in the second row. She pulled a biro out of her pocket, and opened the notebook. She got as far as writing 'TRANSFIGURATION' in big letters on the inside front cover, and the date at the top of the first page. 2 September. Wow. It felt like a long time since the train pulled out of platform 93/4. 'Miss…' Andrea looked up, and supplied Professor McGonnigall with her name. 'Perhaps you were not informed, but those muggle implements, while what you may be used to, are not to be used here.' Andrea frowned perceptibly; does everyone here hate normal people? 'I say this not to slight you, or any muggle, merely because you cannot get replacements in Hogsmeade. Or did you not buy quill or ink either?' Andrea looked uncomfortable, and was grateful she caught this before the Slytherins.

'I have a quill and such, Professor, but I didn't bring them to class. My writing's still bad. I don't have any parchment, though.'

'You may borrow my spares for this class, be sure you bring them in future.' She went to a cupboard, and brought out a roll of parchment, a battered quill and nearly empty inkwell. _Perfect; you can claim to have finished it today_

_No you can't. You'll have to think of a good story_. As she handed them over she said, 'I know it's disorienting for muggle-borns, but really we insist on these things for a reason.' Before she could elaborate the rest of the class entered, and Andrea hastily tucked the biro and notebook away inside her robes. McGonagall went up to the front of the class, and called it to order. To Andrea's relief, and slight annoyance, Scorpius sat next to her.

'You shouldn't sit here', she hissed, and he looked at her in befuddlement, 'look at the class, see how it's all divided, males, and females. Go sit with a boy.'

'You need all the protection you can get,' he hissed back, and Andrea glared at him, knowing he was speaking the truth, but hating him for it. Then McGonagall started the lecture, and Andrea turned to the front and began to wrestle with the quill. Her notes were a mess by the end of class, and she knew she'd need to rewrite them, in addition to the paper McGonagall assigned, right off. _Really you should give up on this wizarding stuff and just own up to who you are; the daughter of an accountant and a teacher, both muggles, who insisted that magic was the stuff of children's stories that you should have grown out of a long time ago._ Andrea looked around the class as everyone left, and knew that she couldn't. She'd tied her mask in place, but it just might be the most elaborate one she'd ever worn.

Charms was similar, except that she and Scorpius were late, and Flitwick didn't assign homework. She ran down to the dormitory with Scorpius to change books, leaving the biro and notebook firmly under the bed, along with the ones from her nightstand. Luckily he seemed to know his way back up and even lent her a piece of parchment. They slide into the front row seats together, receiving a dirty look from professor Flitwick, who docked 5 points from Slytherin. Andrea was too out of breath to notice. All that class she scribbled notes, and none of her reading seemed to be covered. Scorpius, she noticed, angrily, did nothing except listen. He'd probably heard all of this before, but he didn't tell her to stop. Andrea checked her schedule worriedly after that; they had period called 'Study,' indeed they had more this afternoon, and silently pointed this out to Scorpius. 'It's a chance to do homework, and relax. You need a bag, for all your stuff, and parchment, I'll let you use my Owl Order from Flourish and Blotts'. Andrea smiled as she remembered the bookshop, piled high with more books than she could ever dream of. Then she frown at Scorpius.

'Won't the other's notice you're being kind to me?'

'Probably, but we can always tell them an ink bottle smashed and ruined your parchment on the train'

'We?' Andrea added a glare to her frown, and muttered, 'that's the problem, Scorpius, there shouldn't be a we. I've watched children our age, they don't group like this. There shouldn't be a boy-girl we.'

'Well there is.' He said, and she realised that her new friend was not only wealthy, he was extremely well connected, and well used to having things his way around lesser mortals. He was, she decided, a useful person to know. Then she realised that she was thinking like the hat told her, and that the hat needs to be proven wrong. Maybe. If possible. They headed outside again to fill in the Owl Order form and she had a chance to ask him about why wizards use such antiquated things.

'I think it's just the image,' he told her, 'muggles all think wizards are old fashioned, right, so if they find one of us, we can just pretend to be a muggle who's pretending. That, and its tradition. Wizards put a lot of stock in that; it's like the pureblood thing,' his explanation was punctuated by her groan, 'no, listen, purebloods have to trace and respect history, right, so they also respect the tools of their ancestors, which were quills and owls and stuff. So we use them. I used to see all the muggle students with these amazing things for pulling up information, 'cause every time I needed something I had to go to the library and look it up the old-fashioned way. I never got to talk to them though, and my grandparent's library is pretty well stocked. I was home-schooled, too, so I didn't even get to use the…commuters…'

'Computers' Andrea corrected, gently.

'…Right, them, at the library. I don't even know how one works. That's why I asked all those questions yesterday.' She remembered his persistent queries and shudder at the thought.

'D'you not like being a wizard?'

'Of course I do, I just hate being so far behind society, and so far ahead.'

'Removed,' she said, softly, and he looked at her, 'you're removed, like me, but different. You have somewhere you fit as yourself, and I don't yet.' She realised what she'd just said, and how much is sounded like a plea for attention, and quickly said, 'that's sounds worse than it is, ignore me.'

They heard the bell ring, and ran down to the greenhouses they could just see glinting in the weak sun in time for Herbology. The day progressed easily, and it transpired that instead of Flying lessons they instead had a double Study period immediately after lunch. Andrea asked Scorpius where the library was, and got started on the Transfiguration paper. He gawped at her, and she looked at him.

'You're doing it without reading.'

'I did the reading; a week ago' she told him, and produced from next to her chair, the required textbook. 'I need to check over the finer points but I understand the whole first unit.' The section on the principle of conservation of matter, which she learned in Science with Mr. Tonor: "matter cannot be created or destroyed, merely change state" except, apparently, it can, and its elemental constitution as well, if you have magic at your fingertips. Yes, she understood that much, anything beyond chapter 5, well that was complicated, and by chapter 7 she was mostly lost. Maybe when she'd been here a while she'd be able to understand it better. He picked up her book, dropped down into one of the high-backed chairs, and began reading, muttering about know-it-alls. Andrea smiled, weakly, and kept writing. If there was one good thing about the day, it was that she knew, more or less, how to handle a quill, although it was still less than ideal, as she needed a flat surface to rest her ink on. _No more journaling in bed for you_.

She almost finished her essay, discovering that one foot of parchment was very short, and the subject not difficult, when Scorpius dragged her off to Astronomy, a class she'd completely forgotten about in the joy of writing about the laws governing Transfiguration. As with the other classes she decided this one will prove more interesting once they're done with the basics. This first term would see them working in a classroom, memorising star charts and models, but, according to Professor Sinestra, they should be allowed out to view the stars from the astronomy tower once they became second term students. Andrea happily chewed the end of her quill, as she looked around the classroom. Of all the places she'd been today this one was the most normal. _It could even pass for Mr Tonor's room, if you closed your eyes just a little_. The bell goes off, and she came out of her reverie with a jolt. Scorpius, separated from her for the lesson by jealous admirers, appeared at her side.

'How do you know your way around already?' she asked him, as he led her down to the Great Hall.

'My parents drew me maps before I left. You memorised books, I memorised the layout. Together we're a perfect team.' He grinned hopefully at her, and Andrea groaned internally; he may have been a wizard, but he was still an 11 year old male.

'I won't do your homework for you, you know,' she told him, and he looked crestfallen.

'Well then I'll just leave you here,' he said, and jogged on ahead. Smart move, Andrea told herself. _You wanted to tell the truth and lost the friendship of the only person in your house who doesn't care that you're a muggleborn_. Andrea was shocked to hear her mind saying the word 'mudblood' underneath the word muggleborn. _Well, that just means he didn't mean what he meant this morning, that's all. And you have no friends, again. That's what you wanted, isn't it?_ But it hurt, it hurt more than it should, and it hurt because even though she had lost herself once, she had just regained it, and now lost it again. Once a something, twice a… _you don't know the phrase_.

She sighed to herself and found a nook in the hallway, behind a suit of armour, where she could hide, and be herself for a few moments. She thought about Rose and Albus on the train, how they smiled and laughed. How they knew each other, how comfortable they were. She'd always worn masks that were uncomfortable, so that she could remember all the different ones; but if they were acting, it was as people they could have become, rather than who they were forced to be. She focused on remembering all the details in Rose's smile, and passed the time quickly like that. The students emptied out of the corridors, until she heard someone's lonely footsteps coming up the hall. They stopped near her, and she looked up. Scorpius stood over her.

'A pureblood doesn't take that behavior from anybody; he or she fights back with words and wand, and doesn't mope behind suits of armour. We're wasting valuable time here, we have an hour before dinner and I want to look around the grounds'. The kind of look we had this morning, his eyes said.

'Time's a wastin'' Andrea sighed, and pushed herself up, managing to catch her robe under her foot, and fall back down. He laughed, and she glared at him. She was a practiced glarer, and frequently used it to get others under her to do their homework. He looked askance, and stopped laughing. Andrea shook out her hair once she was standing, and picked up her various school books and supplies, almost forgetting her ink, but not quite.

'Do you want to drop that off?' he asked, but Andrea shook her head, it was better where it was; she couldn't worry about it if it was with her.

The two headed out of the doors and into the last remnants of autumn light before the sun dipped below the low cloud, and painted the world a drab shade of grey. 'Can we walk by the lake; I've some things I need to ask you.' Andrea asked him, trying to make up for her glare.

'Let's walk by the forest; it's less frequented by the sound of it.' Andrea nodded, silently. Between the lake and the forest she asked her first question.

'Is the last as world war 2, or another war?'

'What?'

She backed it up a little, 'you said, in the last war, Snipe was head of Slytherin,'

'Snape,' he corrected,

'That too,' she said, breezing over the details, 'was that was World War 2, or another wizard war?'

'Another one. Do you want me to explain it?' at Andrea's nod and he went on, 'it was fought in our parents and our grandparents time against a wizard called Voldemort,' Andrea snorted as she made a fast, and bad translation of the name, 'he's also called He Who Must Not Be Named, You Know Who, and the Dark Lord.' Andrea nodded, solemnly, 'he was thought to have died in our grandparents' time, but it turned out he was hiding inside some powerful piece of old magic that no-one knows much about. My family, and a lot of the families in Slytherin, was on his side, called Death Eaters. My grandfather was one for a long time, but my father joined when he was 17 and left when he was 18, stop…having weird facial expressions. A wizard named Harry Potter was prophesied to defeat the Dark Lord, which he did, and he's the head of the Auror Office. You've never heard of an Auror, have you?' Andrea shook her head, and he merely tutted and shook his head at her.

Seizing her chance she ask the next question, and not caring about the "or-or" thing, 'explain the family thing you were talking about last night,' more of an imperative than a question, but he complied.

It took about ten minutes for him to relate himself and Rose so that Andrea could understand, and then he started in on Albus. 'wait, wait, wait,' she interrupted, 'Albus is the son of Harry Potter, the one from the last war, the or-or head?'

'ten points for Slytherin, she's got it!' he exclaimed and they both laughed. 'Anyway, Harry married Ginevra Weasley, Rose's aunt, and they had kids too.' He suddenly turned his face to the ground, and his voice dropped a little of its enthusiasm. 'My dad told me to stay away from them, but there was nowhere else to sit yesterday, and I…'

'OI, don' you know to stay away from the fores'?' a voice boomed behind them. They both turned, and Andrea's eyes widened at the largest person she'd ever seen, 'an' with professor McGonagall goin' on about it yesterday, an' all' the giant complained. 'Come on you two, away, now.' and he placed his huge bulk between them and the forest.

'Hagrid, who is it?' a girl's voice asked, and Andrea smiled at the chance to meet Rose again. She and Albus appeared from the back door of the hut the Sytherins were walking behind, and Rose stared accusingly at Andrea. Andrea was taken aback, all she did was go to class, how could she have offended her? 'Slytherins' she spat, and walked away. Albus looked torn for moment, and then raced after her, calling her name. Andrea looked at their retreating forms sadly. Maybe she did lose some friends today. The pain doesn't come back though, for which she was grateful.

On their way back up to the castle she asked Scorpius one more question, 'who are the Malfoys?'

He tripped over his feet, and looked at her, 'of course you don't know,' he muttered to himself. He paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts, and then said, 'we're, like, the oldest wizarding family in Britain, we were friends of the Dark Lord at the most important times; when he held power, so we have money, but we also work super high in the Ministry since forever. We're the wealthiest branch of the purebloods, and the best connected. I get fame by being able to call myself Malfoy, you get attention by being my friend.'

'Useful thing to know,' Andrea grinned, and he grinned back.

'Yeah. But we also get the hatred of the Potters and the Weasleys and the Lupins and the Longbottoms because of who I am.'

'They seemed nice enough yesterday,' she pointed out, but he only shrugged.

'People change.' _They certainly do._

Andrea woke up at 6.00 the next day, being pecked by an owl. She recognised the tactic as Scorpius's, and, grumbling quietly, got up. Peering in the gloom at her schedule she remembered enough to recognize the words "Defense against the Dark Arts", and "Study", so she picked up the required book, and some sheets of parchment leant to her by the incredibly wealthy Scorpius (the evening before she had evesdropped on the older boys conversation and discovered roughly how wealthy, and wasn't something she particularly wanted to think about). These sheets, and her quill she stuffed inside the front cover of her book, and, once dressed, raced into the common room, the owl following behind. Scorpius waited there; he handed the owl something, which it eat, and it flew off. 'You mean if I fed it I could have had an extra hour in bed?' Andrea asked him, not at all pleased to be up so early, although she knew it was necessary.

Unfortunately he knew it too, and said, infuriatingly 'you need this,' and led the way outside again. This time they sat by the lake, and Andrea asked the first question that came into her head.

'He's the Dark Lord, right? And it's Defense against the Dark Arts, so why…' she trailed off, unsure of whom she should insult, the school or the man. Luckily he caught her drift and did it for her.

'They've been the Dark Arts for a long time, he called himself the Dark Lord because he used them, it was a way to inspire fear. My father says it's best to practice the defense against them, rather than the Arts themselves. The spells are supposed to be really hard; he used some of them.'

'Thanks' Andrea said, for the explanation, and for making the choice, and looked out over the water.

'Did you finish your Trans paper yet?' he asked after a few minutes of silence.

'Not yet,' Andrea admitted, 'd'you need help with yours?'

'I might, I don't really understand it.' Andrea smiled; wizards really were human after all.

'You know, I don't think she expects you to,' she said, suddenly, thinking about it out loud and coming to an almost instantaneous epiphany, 'we've only had one class; how can you write about unit one. I think she just wants to see whether you've done any reading, and how well you respond to homework.'

'I don't want to get in trouble for not writing it, though,'

'Good, pay attention to what I tell you, and you won't' she teased, smiling.

'As long as you pay attention to what I tell you, and don't get killed for being a mud-muggle-' he didn't finish the word, just looked at her apologetically. She shrugged. It had become a word not an insult, after a day in Slytherin.

'Can I pay attention to my stomach?' Andrea asked, as it reminded her that a delicious breakfast waited for them in the castle. He stood and helped her up. With one last smile Andrea locked away her secret and headed to breakfast.

Andrea liked the idea of defense, but had come to the conclusion that Alastair Moody was really something of a nut; a conclusion which a review of the book over toast and jam did nothing to dissuade. She looked up as Scorpius whacked her on the head, and she stared at an owl, with a package tied to its leg and a letter in its mouth. She looked at Scorpius, and he mouthed 'sign,' before untying the package. The owl spat out the letter, which turned out to be a form from Flourish and Blotts containing thanks for using their service, and requesting that she sign to prove that she was the recipient. That done the owl thanked her, and took off, biting the paper out of her hand. Scorpius handed over the package, and Andrea opened it, feeling self conscious under the eyes of the other first years. Whoever packed it had the good sense to put the parchment rolls and sheets inside the bag, and she feigned particular excitement about them. May leaned in and asked, with a malicious snicker, 'did you forget that?'

Andrea sighed, and said 'one of my ink bottles smashed all over my other parchment on the train,' May snickered again, and Andrea was struck by worry that perhaps her roommates were more observant of the muggle aspects of her behavior than she thought. She'd hidden all traces of notebooks and biros under her bed, but had it been too late.

Defense against the Dark Arts went remarkably smoothly; May sat next to Andrea, and apologised about laughing, 'it's just that that train is _so_ bad.' She even shared her ink, too, Andrea having planned on sharing Scorpius's. Andrea managed to surprise everyone by having some knowledge of what Professor Weasley's talking about, and he congratulated her on her dedication. She squirmed, uncomfortably, for the rest of the lesson whenever he asked a question; she wasn't sure how comfortable she felt about a man which an almighty scar on his face, long red hair and a tooth for an earring. In the study period she left Scorpius in the library with his essay, consisting of his name and the due date, and went to change books in her dormitory, using her new bag. It felt strangely proper to have the weight strung over her shoulder, _and now you can stop abusing your poor quill_. She raced back to the library with her transfiguration essay and more parchment for the report on defensive spells for Defense against the Dark Arts. _You should have known it was a bad idea to be smart; now you have more homework to do_. She didn't manage to do more than finish her transfiguration essay, and help Scorpius and Gerald, another Slytherin, with theirs before they all had to run to double potions with their housemaster and the Ravenclaws.

Slughorn was a jovial sort of man, she'd decided, having seen him pointed out at the high table, and she wasn't disappointed. He called the register, and gave them a lecture on the difficulties and simplicities of potion brewing before setting what he called a simple potion to brew. Andrea paired with Carlotta this time, May having been snagged by a bossy Ravenclaw, and Scorpius off with one of his fans. Carlotta quickly decided that Andrea was already better at this than she'd ever be, and Andrea found herself explaining theory to her while brewing. When she looked up she realised that the whole cluster of desks around them was listening, and Slughorn was examining potions. When he got to Andrea's cluster they all turned back to their ruined, ignored potions, for which he berated them, before coming to her and Carlotta's. He ladled it out, and poured it slowly back into the cauldron. 'Well, here are two young ladies who have a brain between them!' he exclaimed happily, 'did you practice at home, my dears? Come now, it's never a bad thing to get some extra practice!' Carlotta mumbled something, and Andrea shrugged; it had been her best line of defense for a long time. 'Well done you two, ten points for Slytherin, if I do say so myself.' He walked away chuckling. Carlotta looked at Andrea, and she saw admiration in her eyes. She shook her head at her, almost imperceptible, but she noticed.

'You're brilliant. You've gotta be the only one who got it right, first time. And you made the theory make sense. How'd you do that?' she whispered in astonishment. Andrea shrugged again.

Slughorn called for attention again, and they spent the rest of the lesson on the theory of the potion, which Andrea had been explaining to their table cluster before. Carlotta looked at her even more reverently by the end of the two hour period. Andrea kept her head down and made a run for her dorm, where she could change books. She managed to pick up another report in potions, due tomorrow, and already felt like she was chasing her own tail. She hoped that History of Magic didn't yield anything to surprising. She'd be the dunce of that class at any rate.

She slid into the seat left for her between Scorpius and Gerald at the lunch table, and the two immediately began plying her with questions. Andrea didn't know if they were questions about Transfiguration or Potions, as she ignored them both, reaching for the sandwich plate, and helping herself to her favourite, while she said, 'boys, let me eat before you say anything.' They obeyed. Andrea finished half of her sandwich, and her goblet of pumpkin juice before she leaned back and said, 'OK, one at a time, go.'

One by one they questioned her for the next hour, until she felt as strung out as a pecked hen. She held up a hand in the middle of Scorpius's question on the speed of potion stirring, and said. 'Look, you two, I can be your book, but I have two more essays to write, and I have to get them done. I wish I could stay and chat, I really do, but I have to do work. Sorry. All this is in your book. Read it first, then come to me with questions. From now on, that's the rule.' So saying she stood and went to the library, where she found the most secluded spot, and began writing. At five to two Scorpius touched her arm, and she groan.

'It's time for class,' he said, and Andrea changed her mind about hating him. 'I'm sorry if we were a handful, but this is really new to us.' She looked at him in a way that would have made her 22 year old cousin get on with what he was doing. 'Really, I'll talk about it later; we have to go to class.' She stuffed her papers into her bag, and followed him. This was her first History lesson in a new place, and she was determined to make a good show of it. A ghost drifted behind the desk as they walked in. _Ah; so you really did see them at the feast, and in the hallways. Oh good; you're not going crazy…er._ She looked around for a seat, and the ghost instructed that there be one Slytherin and one Gryffindor to each table. Andrea paled slightly at the thought of having to spend the lesson sitting next to another new person, but then saw that Rose was free, and decided to try to make peace. _Even if she doesn't want you to be her friend there shouldn't be all out war, should there?_ She pointedly ignored Andrea as she sat down, and pulled out quill, book, parchment and ink, leaving her bag almost empty except for the astronomy book and papers. Andrea looked around before the ghost began the class, and noticed that Scorpius was sitting next to Albus. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, hesitantly. Albus was locked in some silent conversation with Rose which lasted until the ghost cleared his throat.

'I am Professor Binns, the oldest teacher at Hogwarts'. This got a polite laugh from the Gryffindors, and Georgina yelled out, 'pity you couldn't live to tell the tale.' Andrea wished she could turn and glare at her. 'Welcome to History of Magic,' Professor Binns continued, unperturbed, 'as wizard kind has more history than we have time in this classroom I suggest we get to work. In 4000 BC, the first official council of wizards took place. Of course then it was all wizards, as witches were deemed unsuitable and unnatural…' the class gaped at him for a few more sentences, and then quills began to scribble hastily, trying to catch up with what he said. Andrea resigned herself to needing to re-write these too, and she still hadn't done the transfiguration ones from last night. On top of the immediate essay for Professor Slughorn, _and the one for McGonnigal needs proofreading before tomorrow_. Andrea shook her head, and focussed on Professor Binns; the mere mention of history always used to send her off like this. _You can't start again now._

By the end of class Andrea and Rose were the only ones still scribbling, turning it into a kind of competition for who could jot things down the fastest. Rose won, but only because Andrea's quill point snapped five minutes before the end of class. Albus had been tickling her ear with his, rooting for his cousin, and now she grabbed it, and wrote on, amking a mental note not to shut quills in books. But she could ask Scorpius what to do. Andrea and Rose stretched after the marathon they'd just been through, and as Andrea shook out her fingers their hands collide. She apologised, and Rose withdrew her hand quickly, still shaking it. 'Look, Rose,' Andrea began, softly, under the sound of everyone leaving, staring at the desk, 'I can't help that I'm in Slytherin.' She wondered if this was her without a mask, but decided to chance it. Scorpius said he wanted to see her without one; maybe that was what friends were; people who see you for what you are. Andrea thought of her parents, and the mask she'd worn for them, and decided that wasn't always true.

'I know,' Andrea heard her say equally softly, 'Albus made that point yesterday. But you're a Slytherin, and we just can't be friends.' here she stopped, and Andrea looked at her. Her face said it all.

'OK,' Andrea whispered, though she had never felt less OK in her memory, and together they walked out of the classroom, ignoring each other and avoiding the Hufflepuff fifth years, who came storming in at that point. Rose headed off to her first Astronomy lesson, after Andrea's last-ditch assurance that it was good, and she and Scorpius went to the library to 'study'. An hour later, Andrea felt somewhat better. She gave her transfiguration paper to Sarah, who poured over it with Lynn as if it was a treatise from McGonagall herself. They had a few pointers, mostly on spelling, and one question on wording, and Scorpius taught her, discreetly, a charm to correct ink on parchment. He admitted his mum used to use it all the time on his writing, until she got fed up and taught him. Andrea wrote her report for Slughorn as she explained theory to May, Carlotta, Gerald and Scorpius, and then they left her alone to let her finish, before they head to Astronomy again. Andrea caught sight of Rose as their groups passed in the corridors. She was surrounded by other Gryffindor girls, and wore a look proclaiming "I'm bored, talk about something important before I kill something."

Professor Sinestra had them begin work on the solar system, something Andrea learned about years ago, and had subsequently skipped in the official book. That turned out to be not such a good idea, as she was missing several key points about things magical, and Scorpius had to dig her in the ribs twice. She resolved to read the entire unit before the next lesson, but, remembering her indecipherable notes, decided it might not be the best idea. She was grateful, however, that she knew the basics, because that lesson was about the basics, and she had forgotten about her quill when she had to teach the others in 'study period'. She asked Scorpius about it after class on their way down to the Slytherin Dungeon, and he promised to help.

Once back in the library, where Scorpius complained he'd already spent too much time, Andrea sat down, and surrounded herself with homework. She gave Scorpius her best 'get on with it' glare, and he promptly fell into the chair next to her. She held her quill out, and tried to look pleading, but it came out as a stern-faced teacher look. He took the quill, and opened a little box he'd taken out of his bag. Andrea remembered getting just such a box with her quill, and not knowing what it was for. He showed her how to sharpen the nib, and extend the ink-flow channel, so that it could hold more ink. Andrea watched and learned, determined to remember this, in case. When he handed it back she dunked it in ink, and began to transcribe her transfiguration notes. It ran as smoothly as before and she thanked him sincerely, and got down to work. Andrea was amazed by how bad her own writing could be at times, and how little of what she wrote she could remember writing. Nevertheless, she finished both sets of notes before dinner, though she wasn't sure how. Now she just had a Defense against the Dark Arts report to write, and to read her astronomy book. Amazing. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She reminded herself that these were short, and if anyone assigned anything longer than one roll of parchment she wouldn't be so on top of the game. There can be no more putting off homework.

'You know, in the last war there was this girl here called Hermione Granger, my dad talks about her, she was just like you, in more ways than that she was bookish. He says that she was smarter than Ravenclaws two years older than her. You're not trying to be her are you?'

'Of course I am, given that I've NEVER HEARD OF HER BEFORE' Andrea chased him out of the library followed by Madam Pince. Dinner was too filling, again, and afterwards Andrea headed back to the library, managing to loose Scorpius halfway, once he realized her destination. After diner the library was more crowded than she had seen it in the day, and she headed over to "her corner" hoping it wouldn't be so crowded. A head was bent over a book, red wavy hair forming a thick curtain around the face. Andrea sat opposite her…_is she a friend, now?_ and pulled out a book, not looking at Rose once, making just enough noise to let her know she was there. Movements in her peripheral vision made her look up; Rose's fingers were flexing repeatedly, and her face was no longer angled towards the book, but at Andrea. Seeing her eyes Rose pushed the book towards her, 'what does this mean?' she asked. Tentatively Andrea leaned forward to read where Rose was pointing. She offered an explanation in a quiet voice and smiled. Rose returned it weakly. When Andrea had a similar problem she, too, paused, then called Rose's name. This time the Gryffindor's smile was sincere. Andrea reached out a hand across the invisible wall between them and felt it disintegrate as Rose extended her own. It was enough.

They settled back into quiet studying, reminding Andrea of when she studied with Chiara. Except this time, _she_ was studying.

***

Emergency Brake! Eeek. This is longer than I thought. Wednesday through Friday will be shorter, but they might have to get their own chapter, which means it won't be a perfect 20 Oh well, maybe I can be prodigious enough to pull it to 25.

Or I can make this a chapter and just let you guess at the rest of the week…

Phew, I love Andrea. Too much; my roommate hates me for hogging the computer all the time.


	3. Chapter 3

The Mask and The Mirror

Chapter 3: Weekending

Author's Notes:

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter_

I haven't recently re-read this to check for accuracy, grammer etc. I had at one point; I'm assuming nothing will have changed itself since then.

The rest of the week passed quickly, once Andrea didn't have to fear the Gryffindors. Scorpius still met her every morning and she still peppered him with questions about aspects of wizard life that she felt she needed to know, anything from the age they get their first wands (11) to how to play quidditch, which he decided could only be taught through demonstration. After that they woke even earlier, in order to sneak across the lawn to the broom shed where Scorpius gave her flying lessons. 'All wizards and witches have brooms,' he told her strictly, after she fell off for the 3rd time one morning, 'if you make mistakes like this when we start having lessons you'll be caught out, for sure.' Andrea groaned, but dutifully stood and gripped the broom again.

'If I go to Madam Pomfrey with a broken arm I'm blaming you,' she told him. 'And I won't correct your charms papers anymore.' It seemed that, despite being a wizard, the muggle interpretation had rubbed off on him, and, as a man, he could not take a class called Charms seriously. Andrea knew all the first years Slytherins after her first week, and had ended up helping Carlotta with potions, May and Gerald with transfiguration, Scorpius and Ingnatius with Charms, Lynn with Astronomy, and Sarah with Herbology. She had long since learned that if they came to her, it wasn't being a know-it-all, but if she went to them then they had a reason to hate her. There were only three first year Slytherins who didn't come to her, and they were Georgina, who had been confined to the hospital wing for two weeks after some incident that no-one knew the details of (although the Fat Friar had been heard talking to the Bloody Baron about window safety shortly after the incident); Humbert, a rather annoying boy who looked exactly like his personality; a lump, and Mignon, a French boy whose parents hadn't approved of Beauxbatons, and had sent him to Hogwarts to be with his cousin Carlotta. She counted herself lucky, really, that the Gryffindors, although she knew them by name, went to Rose instead. It would take too much explaining if they didn't, and it was turning out to be hard enough being friends with Rose and Albus.

Albus agreed to be Andrea's friend also, and confided that he had been concerned that perhaps he would be in Slytherin, but Scorpius and Rose were at each other's throats too often to be called amicable. They had come to the tentative agreement to ignore each other as much as possible, but, in Andrea's opinion, they insulted each other too often for that. She hoped that the two of them would learn to see past their families' prejudices through the banter, but Scorpius insisted it would never happen. Even so, she had discovered that he had quite a close friendship with Albus, and he didn't object when she called them 'friends.'

'He's a guy, at least this way I have someone to talk to while you and burnt-brain are yabbering on,' he had objected. Andrea had merely smirked at his back until he turned around and hit her.

One thing that all four agreed upon was that as soon as they left the relatively neutral ground of the library the two groups would go their separate ways and any interaction which transpired in public view would be acted out with the traditional feelings between their houses. Andrea hadn't meant to get overly good at the courtly dialogue tradition, but discovered that she was remarkably proficient, and the language based on double meaning was the preferred manner for Slytherins. Albus and Rose were a little slower on the uptake, but Andrea put that down to the fact that they were probably never tormented by their classmates for being smart.

She and Rose now sat in the dim library, revelling in having finished all their homework on Friday night. Andrea dropped her head to the table and shut her eyes, but Rose insisted on picking her shoulders up, stealing her bag, and making off to the great hall with it; Rose believed in eating as celebration, not sleeping. Andrea grabbed her essay, quill, inkpot, and Rose's blotting paper before leaping up after her, making a great fuss about 'witches who think their better than everyone because they're pureblood, and I'm just a 3rd generation witch'. Andrea had, of course, told Albus and Rose about the problem she faced, being in Slytherin, and Rose dealt with Andrea's yelling in a good-natured way. Andrea only wished she didn't still put her wand in her book-bag.

Rose handed the bag over before they entered the great hall; and Andrea glared at her in a very Slytherin-ly manner. Her vocabulary of glares was becoming wider by the day among her housemates; she had the 'do your homework' glare, and the 'shut up' glare, the 'behave' glare, the 'how dare you glare' glare, the 'Scorpius' glare, since, according to her housemates, she looked at him differently than others, there was the 'leave me alone; I'm studying' glare, which was apparently different from the 'shut up' glare, and there was the one she'd just given Rose, which was the 'how dare you touch a Slytherin' glare, something she picked up from the seniors.

After dinner she and Scorpius had settled into a routine of playing chess in the common-room, something Andrea, on this occaision, beat him at, and then, after showers and getting high-fives in celebration for finishing the first week by the upperclassmen, they all went to bed.

On Saturday morning she woke at 5.30, and groaned as she felt the stiffness in her muscles from yesterday's flying lesson. She met Scorpius, as usual, in the common room and they headed out across the misty grounds. Andrea felt slightly awkward not having a book with her, even after only a week.

They reached the broom shed quickly, too quickly for Andrea's liking, and she ran her hand over the line of bruises marching up her leg. _All because you can't grip your broom properly_. She had tried to convince Scorpius to let her stop, after all, she had spun the tale about her 'father' disliking Quiddich, but Scorpius had pointed out that Wizards fly for more than sports, and Andrea had no choice but to agree; even in muggle stories it was so. So she consigned herself to needing these lessons; the words of her classmates having made it clear that she couldn't be seen to be anything less than a second generation witch, and Scorpius having set her up as a third.

He had explained the goings on in the last war in more detail, and Andrea had realised as a result that her position was a lot better than it could have been. 'The war may be over, but that doesn't mean that all is right', he warned, 'don't get cocky.' Andrea had heard enough about keeping the 'racial purity' of the 'chosen people' that she knew he was right, although he did admit that Hermione Granger, who became a personal hero for Andrea, had done her best for muggle-borns. Upon her initiation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement she repealed the pro-pureblood laws, and worked to set up a more egalitarian basis. But it wasn't, and everyone knows it. Scorpius also assured Andrea that none of the families who actually hold onto the pro-pureblood laws are actual purebloods, only 5th of 6th generation wizards pretending. There was always something in his tone, though, that said he wasn't quite sure how to cope; Andrea knew he wanted a friend, but she wasn't sure if she was just an interstitial stand-in. Nevertheless, he had drawn a chart of the pureblood line in England, and, in different coloured ink, drawn her into it, by marriage of her 'grandmother' to one of the members on the tree. YIt hadn't escaped Andrea's notice, however, that all the names on the tree were at Hogwarts: Lupin, Weasley, Malfoy, Longbottom, and Potter.

She gripped her broom firmly, and tried not to think about how much of a fraud she was. She had promised herself that things would be different here, that she'd be the brainy nobody by second year, and this year would be spent in total anonymity, hiding in the background until she found out what this was about. It had been a week, and she'd made more friends than she'd had at any other point in her life, and she tutored almost all of her houses' first years. She was hiding behind the most complicated mask she'd ever worn, one she felt guilty about wearing. And she still couldn't sit on a broom properly. 'Can't I sit side-saddle?' she suddenly asked, trying to catch him off his guard and get him to agree, but he firmly shook his head.

'It's more painful for guys you know, you'll sit the proper way.' So she tried. Andrea hated to admit it, but she had been getting better, in a very pathetic way. Today she was determined, and tried out some new strategies she'd spent last night pondering. She pushed off, and brought her knees to the boom slowly, feet out, until she was gripping with hands and knees, not thighs. She made a face at Scorpius from four feet in the air, but he smiled and motions her upwards. This was the part where she always fell off. Andrea tugged the broom upwards, and felt it jump. She panicked, but her clenching leg muscles did nothing to her knees, and, to her surprise, nothing happened.

For the remainder of that morning Scorpius had her going up and down until he was satisfied that she wouldn't fall off in their first lesson, and Andrea felt better by the end of it than she had about sports in a long time. They snuck out to avoid Madame Hooch, and, as it was the weekend, walked for half an hour around the edge of the lake, watching the mist burn off, and the giant squid basking in the weak heat it provided. Andrea was still a little apprehensive about a giant squid, but Rose, Albus and Scorpius insisted that it was nothing to be worried about, although Fred Weasley did try to tell her it snacked on curious first years. Andrea liked Fred, he joked around in an easy way that she had always admired but could never achieve, and he was much easier to be with than James Potter. While she was thinking about her new acquaintances a sudden question struck her, but before she could voice it to her companion he became distracted by the food and noise of the Great Hall at breakfast.

It was only after breakfast, when the four met up in the Entrance Hall to go exploring, that Andrea had the chance to turn to Rose and ask her question. The boys were getting into a heated argument about whether the Wimbourne Wasps or the Holyhead Harpies were the better team, and ignored the other's conversation. 'Why do a bunch of purebloods hang out with a muggle-born like me?' Rose burst out laughing, in a raucous, angry laugh, and the boys look at her; clearly having just insulted each other's preferred team.

She ignored their looks, let out a mighty yell, and chased Scorpius up a staircase, which, thankfully was abandoned. As they followed Andrea, Albus, and Fred, who caught up with them, could distantly hear, 'what have you been telling her?' After Rose came back, calm from being able to give the dejected blonde a few good thumps on the back, she said, her tone as haughty as Bates', 'there's no difference between purebloods and muggle-borns. Didn't I tell you on the train my mother's a muggle-born?'

'And I told you,' interjected a rather miffed Scorpius, 'I want to know you when you're not acting. I'm sure Albus and them want to, too.' They nodded, and Andrea's confusion stated to lift as she realised that, to her good fortune, the other houses simply didn't see blood status as important. She had been so focussed on what was expected of Slytherins that she had simply forgotten. She'd never taken a mask off and not replaced it. She didn't even know what she looked like under them. Luckily Fred chooses that moment to turn up another staircase, which promptly ate his leg, and all five forgot the conversation in the angst of pulling him out. Andrea did not appreciate what the staircases probably thought were hilarious jokes when she was late to class, again, but here, now, she saw the funny side, as she promptly placed one leg, unthinkingly, on the same step, to haul him out in a very muggle way. She yelped, and fell through next to him.

'You know,' said Fred, as he attempted a levitation charm to get Andrea out, 'all this fuss makes me want to climb this one.'

As a group they agreed and all leapt over the trick step to the rest of the spiral staircase. Then Fred's words sank in, 'you mean you've never been here?'

A wicked grin appears on his face, 'no; never here, but I can do you a nice line in secret passages,' Andrea and Scorpius gaped at him; Albus and Rose seem to have heard it before.

'Never let him lead you anywhere, and don't eat any food he's touched.' Rose advised, in her most professorly voice, which Andrea heard her using a lot in the library. 'His dad runs a joke shop. They do more things than just food, but anything else and you risk your education.'

Scorpius slapped his forehead, '_You're_ Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?' Fred nodded proudly. 'I love that place. I knew it had to be one of you.' Andrea had seen it on her way to getting your school things, but hadn't dared go inside; her Muggle-Liason Officer, Patty, hadn't been too keen on them either. Scorpius sensed this, and explained, 'it's one of the foremost joke shops in the wizarding world, except Zonko's, which only wins because it's older. I think it's better because it's more up-to-date. If you're in a wizard family then all the Zonko's jokes are old hat.' Both the Weasleys smile at his exuberance.

'We had a second branch in Hogsmeade, but my Uncle, who was going to run it, died, so it had to close, until we find someone to run it, or until I come of age.' An air of pomp entered his voice, and Andrea was reminded again of Florent and Bates, the two Slytherin prefects. She couldn't see either of them in a joke shop, but then, she pondered, that was probably why her group used their intonation for responsibility. The staircase ended suddenly in a landing and a corridor, leading off in one direction, and they immediately set off down it. Andrea watched Fred light his wand tip and decided to attempt her first spell, pulling her wand out of her bag. 'Lumos' she told it. It fired her backwards, with a bang, and glowed like a lighthouse. Shielding her eyes with her free hand she hear Fred yelling. 'Nox,' she told it, and it plunged them into darkness. Andrea stood, rubbing her bum; of course she landed on it anyway on the one day she hadn't fallen off that broom. 'What was that?' she asked the upperclassman.

'Well, as that one can't go wrong, either your wand is broken, or it hates you.' Fred supplied, unhelpfully.

'Can a wand hate someone?' Rose asked her cousin.

'Yeah, if it's the wrong wand.' Andrea understood what he meant, but definitely remembered the warmth in her hand she felt in the dingy little shop that day.

'Can it start out as the right wand, and get a grudge?' she asked the group.

There was a pause, and then Scorpius said, attempting to be forceful, but not succeeding, 'no?'

'As long as no-one accidentally cursed it,' Fred informed them. At the group's look he explained, 'my father once cursed my mum's wand to see what would happen, it didn't work until he took the curse off.'

Andrea looked at her wand accusingly, asking it, 'where did you go to get cursed, then?' and, as if answering, she remembered her first night, when she told it to leave her door and not enter another's; otherwise known as muggle cursing*. 'Do muggle curses count?' she asked.

'Muggle's have curses?' Andrea winced; she should have known that was coming.

'Like swear words,' she explained, loosely. They looked at each other.

'What did you call it?' Andrea told them, stringing all the words together hoping she didn't sound stupid. 'Were you holding it at the time?'

'No,' She definitely remembered that; she cursed it, and then moved it.

'You cursed your wand,' Fred told her with a completely straight face.

'Oops,' she muttered.

'At least we found this out before doing anything practical in class,' Scorpius pointed out, but Andrea felt a sinking sensation as she realised that he wouldn't, now, sit next to her, just in case it did explode. 'Let's take it to Slughorn.'

'Nah, piece of piss,' Fred insisted and took it from Andrea, laying it on the ground, and touching it with his own wand. '_Finite incantatem_' he ordered, and handed it back. 'Try again.'

Andrea backed against the wall, and held the thing well away from her before saying, hesitantly, 'L-lumos.' The wand tip glowed and lit the otherwise darkened far end of the corridor. There was silence, and they waited for something to explode. But it didn't. They all breathed a sigh of relief.

'Come on,' Fred urged, 'let's find out what's up here, before we run into any other difficulties.' There turned out not to be much, just a landing, and a short corridor with two rooms coming off it, one on either side. Andrea picked up the new spell _Alohamora_, this time from Rose, who, despite having a law enforcer and an auror for parents, had been encouraged to practice magic at home. The rooms contained nothing of interest, just a mirror in one, and a spare table in the other. Rose peeked into the mirror to check her hair, and squealed. Fred ran to make sure she was alright, and looked over her head, gaping. The two of them essentially covered the mirror's viewing pane, and Andrea studied the words at the top, hoping for some enlightenment. _Erised Stra Ehru Oyt Ube Cafru Oyt On Woshi. _She said it aloud and noticed how very non-Latinate it sounded, but she kept studying it for want of something better to do. Finally, Scorpius called her over to the mirror,

'Let me introduce the most amazing mirror you've ever met,' he announced grandly.

'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all,' Andrea joked, but unfortunately none of them caught the reference. 'It's a muggle thing, never mind.' How can their parents refuse them Disney? There's nothing scary about Disney, except that one part of Fantasia where…the sorcerer's name, Yesnid... Disney, backwards. Andrea looked up at the words, knowing it wouldn't work, but wanting to try it anyway. '_Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts Desire,_ it WORKS,' she yelled, 'I show no… I show not… your face…but your heart's Desire.'

'I've heard of this,' Rose breathed, 'my parents saw it, when they were here.'

'Dad told me it was destroyed,' Albus said, 'or maybe that was something else he was talking about. I wasn't listening.'

'Come on then, let's see what your heart's desire is,' demanded Fred, positively dragging Andrea to the mirror. But she couldn't look at it. She didn't want to know her heart's desire, because what if her heart's desire was not her minds desire? What if the wretched hat was right? That question had been bothering her all week. What if the hat was right? It was strange how afraid she was of having power, even though she knew she'd always been given it.

Fred reluctantly let her go, and she scrambled well away from the mirror before looking back at his hungry look.

'It's OK,' Scorpius whispered, 'only you can see what's in the mirror, I tried looking at Albus's and all I could see was his reflection, then my desire. It was wicked awesome, but you don't have to share it. Rose won't tell me what she sees.' Andrea looked at Rose, and imagined her image; probably the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, like Andrea's hero, Hermione Granger.

'What do you see?' Andrea asked him, and he laughed.

'First you have to look in the mirror,' he caught her glare and grinned, 'you don't have to tell me anything.' But Andrea refused. Something inside her told her she mustn't look in the mirror.

'You know, muggles have all these stories about finding your innermost feelings and desires on quests and challenges of being. Nowhere does it mention cheating and looking in a mirror,' she told them all.

'But you're not a muggle,' Rose pointed out, and Andrea gave her a very pointed look, remembering their conversation of earlier.

'Come on, let's leave this dump,' Scorpius suggested, oblivious to the battle between the girls, and they all followed him back down the stairs, and leapt over the vanishing step again. At lunch they saw James, previously off on a detention, and afterwards caught up with him to chat, as he and Fred walk with the first-years on the way to Quidditch practice. James draped his arms over Scorpius and Andreas' shoulders; as if about to tell a big secret.

'Now then, my ickle firsties,' he said, in a passable imitation of Peeves, 'we don't want to get into trouble now, not with nasty big Weasley.' He became serious and looked accusingly at Fred and Rose, 'Our uncle is a mean one, in detentions.' He proceeded to ignore Fred, who seemed to know this already, and speaks only to the four first years, 'transcribing a water damaged dictionary of Gobbledegook. Never, ever, annoy him. At least not for the next few months.'

'Gobbledegook?' Andrea asked him, not believing a word of it.

'The Goblin language,' she looked at him sternly

'Gobbledegook,' she said again, putting the force of her disbelief behind the words. He nodded. 'It's not a language,' she insisted.

'Yes it is; the Goblin language. You just wait 'till Professor Binns starts on the Goblin Rebellions,' Andrea couldn't believe he still expected her to take him seriously.

'James Potter,' she began, in her haughtiest tone, 'I may be ignorant of your ways but do not try to insult me.' He stared at her.

'What's gobbledegook mean for muggles?' he asked, warily.

'It's the name given to collections of random syllables drawn together to mean nothing. It's a nonsense language, for children. Or it's used of something that doesn't make sense, like if someone doesn't know what they're talking about, then you say, "oh that's such gobbledegook". It's even recognised by Microsoft spellcheck.' This latter Andrea mentioned as a point of interest, and only remembered too late that it would mean nothing to the wizards in whose mighty company she now walked.

'We don't use it like that,' James told her, patiently, for once, 'for us, it's a real language, the Goblin Language. It sounds like nonsense if you don't study it though.'

'I guess,' Fred postulated, similarly showing a brief moment of sincerity, 'that it got passed into muggle language because it sounds like nothing but people, well Goblins mostly, use it to communicate.' It sounded like a reasonable assumption, Andrea had to agree, but made a mental note to check their words later.

James and Fred ran off to get their brooms from the broom-shed; and the first years made their way down to the forest to visit Hagrid.

Rose and Albus filled the Slytherins in on the details. 'He was the first wizard my dad met'

'He's a half giant, but he's very kind'

'He's the gamekeeper'

'He's the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, you start in 3rd year'

'He takes care of the animals that live here'

'Unicorns, and dragons, and…well centaurs take care of themselves'

Hagrid threw open the door before they arrived, 'heard yer bletherin' a mile off' he says, smiling at them, 'sorry 'bout the other day bet yeh can't go in the fores', you heard Professor McGonnagal.' He opened the door wide and let them all crowd into the doorway, where they stared at a half horse, half eagle which lay curled in a corner. 'Tha's a hippogriff, Withers, he's not feeling so well, lately, so I brought 'im in to look after. He's not as young as 'e was, ha, like me, in fac', so I want ter take care of him. 'ippogriffs are awful proud so don' insult 'im.' Andrea thought about her wand, and how easily that had been insulted and a guilty look passed over her face. 'bes' way ter deal with 'em is to bow, before you go to 'em.' Hagrid instructed merrily as he stomped around making tea, and producing rock cakes. 'Las' time I had kids in 'ere it was yer parents,' he said to Rose and Albus, 'but yer dad was always getting on me nerves,' he told Scorpius, 'done insulted Buckbeak too, s'n'other 'ippogriff. Nearly had 'is head for tha'' Andrea wondered briefly who had whose head, but Withers snapped at her then, impatient for the honour he deserved, and so she bowed, very low, and straightened, watching the bird-of-prey beak, the powerful legs, and sharp claws. Witherblack (as Hagrid proclaimed his full name to be), still seated, inclined his head to her, very slightly. She smiled nervously and looked at Hagrid, who nodded her forward encouragingly. Gently she patted Witherblack's feathers, admiring how soft and almost silky they were, alighned so perfectly long his neck, before she sat on the floor between him and the table to stroke the glossy grey and silver plumage while drinking.

'Who's the brave young lady then?' Hagrid asked the room in general, 'yeh can' look like yer paren's if they're a witch and wizard, or I'd remember 'em.'

'I'm a muggle-born,' Andrea admitted him and gave her name.

'Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts,' he introduced himself.

'And Professor of Care of Magical Creatures,' Andrea added, hoping to show her respect for him, too.

'Tha' too,' he admitted. 'Yeh deal' with Withers well enough, you could do well in i' in a few years.' The praise was welcome, but Andre would have shrugged it off, had Witherblack not looked up at his name, pushing her backwards into the wall. She yelped, and pushed back, forgetting respect, and he seemed to remember that she was there, and let her have a little more breathing room.

'Thank you, Withers,' Andrea murmered, being polite once again. Hagrid handed her a cup of tea, and a rock cake, which she set on the floor and on her knee, respectively. On struggling with the rock-cake for a good minute she finally dunked it in tea and let it soak before trying again. This time it was edible and actually quite tasty eliciting a compliment to Hagrid on them, and the others peered over to see how she had discovered this long secret information. The tea was delicious too, made with tealeaves, rather than bags like Andrea was used to at home, and she quickly decided she much preferred it this way to any other.

The afternoon spent there passed all too quickly, and soon James and Fred were knocking on the door. They got pulled into a conversation on Quidditch, and how much better the Gryffindor team is than the Slytherin team. They berated Slytherin chaser Martin Cook, and Scorpius looked pointedly at Andrea. She returned the look, adding a little rage that sent his eyes back to his now-empty tea cup. Hagrid, eventually told them all to leave, instructing that they do their homework and eat a good dinner, and Andrea said a sad goodbye to Witherblack, promising to see him soon. Andrea's pockets were full of rock cakes, and all five of the others, Fred and James having heard about the soft-cake miracle, gave her theirs. They joked that they'd tried everything, from bludger practice, which took some explaining, to softening charms, and Hagrid's rock-cakes were impervious to all. Fred even admitted that his dad wanted to get the recipe so that he could incorporate them into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Andrea promised to show them the secret the next day, and handed them all back to their respective owners.

In the entrance hall the parted ways, the Slytherins heading back to the dungeons. In the common room Scorpious was snagged immediately by some third years who wanted to talk to him about his family, and Andrea was spotted and set upon by her adoring fans, many of whom were waving bits of parchment. She looked over their homework attempts briefly, pointing out any gross errors of reasoning or understanding, before focusing on Transfiguration with May and Gerald. In explaining it slowly she was discovering that her own understanding had increased, and the rest of the book was becoming easier. She was daring to hope that she might finish it by the end of the term.

After a dinner of the most delicious steak and kidney pie Andrea had eaten in a long time she relaxed on her bed with her journal, charms book, which was very easy to understand, and Lord of the Rings. As Andrea finished documenting her first exciting week she was shocked to find her loyalty to her old friend failing, and so used it as a battered chest-rest while she propped herself up on her elbows to read about diminishing charms.

*this is the translation of an ancient Gaelic curse; which supposedly works…? You can see how it might be a little dire if used on humans.


End file.
